A FIGHT AND A RETREAT.
"I tell you, Mr. Preston, this is the most dangerous place in the whole
country," continued McCann, "and you risk your life and ours by staying
here."
"I can't help it if I do," replied Oscar. "I thought of that before I
came to Africa, and you ought to have thought of it before you hired out
to me. It is my business to go where the game is to be found. That's
what I was sent here for."
"But just look at it for a moment," said McCann earnestly. "This
fountain is the only water there is in the country for miles around."
"Exactly. I knew that when I came here, and it is just the reason I am
going to stay. The game always comes where the water is."
"Yes; and so do the hyenas, leopards, and lions. The hyenas will rob
you of your goats, the leopards will show a partiality for your dogs,
and the lions will drive off your horses, and perhaps gobble you or one
of your men up for dessert."
"If they do it will be our own fault," answered Oscar, who began to
believe that his after-rider was not quite as courageous as he said he
was. "It is our business to look out for things. Here is the wagon.
Outspan under those trees, and have supper ready for me in an hour."
"You are never going out to hunt!" exclaimed McCann. "It will be pitch
dark before you know it."
"I shall not go far," was the reply. "I want to shoot one of those
secretary-birds before I go to bed."
As soon as the wagon came to a standstill Oscar climbed into it, and
after putting the rifle he had carried all day into its case he selected
from among his other weapons a heavy double-barrelled shot-gun.
With this in his hand, and a belt full of cartridges about his waist, he
mounted Little Gray, all unconscious that the animal's speed would soon
be tested to its very utmost, and rode out in search of a secretary.
It was a lovely evening, and Oscar was in just the mood to enjoy it.
Turtle-doves cooed to one another from the trees over his head;
long-tailed finches, commonly called the widahbird, flitted through the
branches; a garrulous honey-bird tried hard to attract his attention as
he rode past, and now and then flocks of Namaqua partridges sailed by,
uttering their melodious notes, and settled down about the fountain.
Oscar looked at all these birds, but did not try a shot at any of them.
He had no time to waste, for darkness would soon be upon him.
As soon as he was fairly out of the grove he discovered one of the birds
of which he was in search, stalking along about two hundred yards in
advance of him.
Oscar rode toward it, keeping close watch of every move the bird made,
so that he might know how to set it up after he had shot it.
The secretary soon discovered his approach, and, straightening up,
looked curiously at the hunter for a few seconds, after which, like the
industrious bird he was, he went about his business again.
He did not seem to be very much afraid, but still he showed very plainly
that he did not care for company, for when Oscar had approached within
fifty yards of him he moved away in so awkward and ostentatious a manner
that the young hunter laughed outright.
He did not run or hop, but walked off with long, measured strides, and
in much the same manner that a boy progresses when he is mounted on
stilts.
The secretary seemed to be trying to show off, and the longer Oscar
looked at him the louder he laughed.
While his merriment was at its height Little Gray--who was moving
rapidly along, with his bridle hanging on his neck--uttered a loud
snort, and jumped aside so suddenly that Oscar came within a hair's
breadth of being thrown to the ground.
If he _had_ been his hunting expedition would probably have been ended
then and there; for when he reigned up his frightened steed, and looked
around to see what had caused his alarm, he saw curled up in the sand,
close by the track his horse had made, a hideous puff-adder, or, to
speak according to the books, a horned _cerastes_, than which there is
not a more deadly serpent in Africa. There is no known antidote for its
bite.
It is supposed by some writers on natural history to be the same reptile
that Cleopatra used when she destroyed herself. It was so large in
proportion to its length that it could not coil itself up as other
serpents do, but lay in the form of a figure of eight.
It was excited and angry, and raised its horrid head and thrust out its
tongue in the most vicious manner. Oscar looked all around for a stick
or stone, but could not find any; and as he did not want to shoot for
fear of alarming the secretary-bird, he rode on, leaving the reptile to
curl up and go to sleep again.
"I'll attend to you when I come back," said he as he put his horse into
a gallop, and resumed his pursuit of the bird, whose long strides had
carried him over a good deal of ground during this short delay. "I am
down on all such things as you are."
In a few minutes more Oscar was riding within a hundred yards of the
secretary, which kept stalking steadily ahead, as if he had made up his
mind to go somewhere. Something must have told him that Oscar meant
business this time, for he would not allow the boy to come as close as
he did before.
He took wing, rising so far out of range that it would have been useless
to fire at him, and, sailing majestically around the hunter, flew toward
the fountain, Oscar had played with him a little too long, and his prize
had slipped through his fingers.
He turned in his saddle to watch the bird's graceful flight, and took
note of the fact that before he had gone far he began settling toward
the ground.
He came down gradually at first, then with a rush, and the moment he
landed on his feet, began that awkward stalk again; but this time he
moved in a circle, and kept his wings outstretched and his head turned
on one side, as if he were watching some object on the ground.
Oscar was at a loss how to account for this, until he discovered that
the bird had alighted on the very ground which he had passed but a few
minutes before. Then the matter became quite clear to him.
"I declare, he is after that adder," said Oscar, turning his horse
around so that he could have a better view of what was going on. "Now,
let's see the fight. Go in, Mr. Secretary; I'll bet on you every time!"
Just then the adder raised his horned head from the ground, only to be
knocked flat immediately by a lightning-like stroke from one of the
bird's wings. Then the secretary darted forward, and made an effort to
seize the reptile in his strong, hooked beak; but quick as the bird was
the snake was quicker, and frustrated the attempt by throwing back its
head in readiness to strike.
Nothing daunted, the brave bird backed off, and, after a little
manoeuvring, knocked the reptile flat again, and this time succeeded in
laying hold of it before it could recover itself.
Oscar expected to see the bird devour his prey on the spot; but instead
of that he arose straight in the air until he had reached an altitude of
two hundred feet or more, and then he allowed the snake to drop to the
ground.
Swooping down after it with the velocity of an eagle, the bird caught up
the now disabled reptile and repeated the operation again and again; and
having at last satisfied himself that his enemy was dead, he walked off
and left it lying on the plain.
"I wouldn't shoot him if I could," said Oscar, who had watched the
struggle with the keenest interest. "These birds live almost entirely on
poisonous reptiles, but this one's actions prove that he wasn't hungry.
He killed that adder just because he hated him and didn't want to have
him around. It's too bad to shoot a bird like that, even for scientific
purposes. If that fight could be represented in the museum it would be
well worth looking at; but I wouldn't skin and stuff that adder for all
the money Mr. Adrian is worth. Perhaps I can mount the bird as he
appeared when----"
Oscar's soliloquy was interrupted by a most startling incident. While he
was following the secretary-bird he had approached within twenty yards
of one of the numerous little groves that was scattered over the plain.
When he turned his horse about to watch the fight we have just described
his back was toward this grove, from which there now issued, without
warning of any kind, an enemy which gave him a fright that he will
remember to his dying day.
The first intimation he had of the terrible danger that threatened him
was a quick movement on the part of Little Gray, who sprang forward so
suddenly that Oscar very narrowly escaped being unhorsed.
As it was his feet were jerked out of the stirrups, and he was thrown
over on one side, so that he hung by one leg and by one arm, which he
had managed to throw around the horn of his saddle.
If he had lost his hold, or if the saddle had turned with his weight,
it would have been all up with Oscar Preston, for almost at the tail of
his horse, which was now running at the top of his speed, came one of
those dreaded animals he had seen scurrying off through the dust an hour
or so before--a buffalo.
This old rogue, having concealed himself in the grove, had doubtless
been watching the young hunter ever since he left the wagon, and waiting
for him to come within fair charging distance.
He certainly was a vicious-looking brute as he came full tilt after the
horse, with his tail in the air and his shaggy head covered with broad,
flat horns, lowered close to the ground in readiness to toss both Little
Gray and his rider toward the clouds, and to Oscar's frightened eyes he
looked as big as an elephant.
"I am afraid I shall never see home again," said Oscar, who wondered how
he could think so clearly when every nerve in his body was vibrating
with terror. "My strength is all leaving me. I am growing weaker every
moment."
It was a most alarming thought, but right on the heels of it came a
gleam of hope. His horse was gaining at every jump--very slowly, it is
true, for the buffalo, heavy and clumsy-looking as he was, ran at a
surprising rate of speed, but still he was _gaining_.